


Quiet Nights

by ruthlesslistener



Category: 2P Hetalia - Fandom, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 2p gerita, M/M, Quick fluffy drabble, Well as fluffy as these guys get
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 03:00:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8649073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruthlesslistener/pseuds/ruthlesslistener
Summary: He was always so warm when he slipped between the sheets, that sometimes, Lutz wondered if he really was as cold as he claimed to be.





	

He was always so warm.

Maybe that shouldn't be something that Lutz should be focused on on the nights that he came to him, but it was something he remembered regardless. Hard not to, really; when you've got someone pressed against your chest and tucked under your chin like something treasured, you tend to notice their body heat. And Lutz never was known for focusing on the hard details, anyways.

(Just the soft, unimportant little things so often overlooked by others- you know it gives you an edge on the field, when every little cue betraying your enemy's thoughts can raise the chance of survival, but it blunders in your way nonetheless and it gives you an uncanny ability to read people between the lines and sometimes you think that's the reason why Luciano seems so drawn to keep you at the same time he pushes you away.)

(You certainly notice the little things about him, anyway. How he sleeps curled around a blade like he thinks it can protect him, or how under the lean muscle of his back you can feel his ribs poking sharper than they should be.)

Besides, it's not like Luciano doesn't call attention to his body temperature himself. He's usually as quiet as a wraith when he slips into Lutz's bed, but years of training has taught Lutz to sleep light, and whatever cryptic one-line answers Luciano normally quips generally tend to focus on a lack of sufficiant body heat. Which Lutz supposed he could buy- Luciano hates cold weather with the same passion he hates his worst enemies- but for the majority of the time they're usually stationed in Italy, near one of the old north-south borderlines, and Lutz doesn't think he's dumb enough to be tricked into believing that Luciano was cold enough to bite his pride and sleep with his underling when it's warm enough to leave the shutters open to the nighttime breeze.

(Luciano often awakes in shivers regardless of what the temperature is, and you're beginning to believe it's not the night that's chilling him, but his own personal demons.)

It's always nicer to sleep together than alone, though, at least for Lutz, and he has to admit that there's a certain thrill in holding his fearsome boss close, especially when he compares it to what it was like to share a bed with him a century ago. Back then it was born of battlefield necessity; they'd shoved and bickered and fought until both bled enough to kick the fire out of their tempers. Now Luciano accepts the cautiously- outstretched arm with a grumble of annoyance and a few irritable twitches, and it's always with the same burning rush in his gut that he got when he fought knife and fist over a bedroll that he gets now when he rests his chin in soft auburn locks and takes in the scent of a rising tyrant.

(He smells like blood and iron and basil and expensive cologne and you love it, you love the foreigness of it and the danger and the way the tang of metal and sea salt rests heavy under his tongue when he shoves you against the matress and you wrestle for dominance)

And god- Luciano's hair is soft and thick and curly when bed-mussed, perfect for nuzzling, really, an instinct Lutz is happy to oblige. It stirrs a response from the nation it's attatched to, a sleep-heavy grumble of I'm not a fucking cat, you imbicle, stop fucking treating me like one, but it's not hard to hear the content purr in his words, a soft sound that never fails to make Lutz's chest soar.

(Your- what? Boyfriend? Certainly they're not close enough for that- only makes that sound when he's really, truely happy, and it makes you happy too, because it's so rare for him to be like this, so relaxed, so unguarded and content, and he deserves to be, your Luciano deserves everything, he deserves the world he so lusts to conquer.)

It's not hard to kiss him, either, so Lutz does just that, pressing his lips to the nape of Luciano's neck softly. It still makes him tense nonetheless- Lutz knows he hates being touched where he's weak- but all it gets him is an elbow to the side and a sliver of a glowing magenta glare so he can't bring himself to be too sorry about it.

"Don't." Luciano's gaze held steadfast, an unwavering leader even when roused from the depths of sleep, and Lutz, a man who knows how to follow orders, backs off. It doesn't stop him from dropping his head to the pillows to give Luciano his best attempt at puppy- dog eyes, but Luciano is a man who's never had much fondness for dogs so it doesn't do much good anyways.

"You never gave me a reason why you're here this time, you know." Lutz dropped the act and decided to go for a smirk instead, the corners of his lips tugging wider when Luciano turned back around with an irate huff. "Don't tell me it's because you're cold, it's the middle of summer out here."

"And what, I'm not allowed to sleep where I want in my own house?" Luciano's voice was sharp, but Lutz had seen enough of his blades to no longer fear them, both physical and verbal. He drew closer instead, silently delighting in the way Luciano flexed his shoulders as he bantered, like a bird debating whether to fly.

"I can't tell you what to do," -an encouraging hum- "But I can ask why you're here specifically."

Silence. Luciano's shoulders tensed, then settled, then tensed again when Lutz rested his cheek against his neck.

(Years with your brother has taught you when to recognize when a bird wants nothing more than to fly away. You can see that now, can feel it, and decide to back away.)

"Nevermind," Lutz said, at the same time Luciano growled "It's none of your fucking buisness." Lutz raised an eyebrow at that, but Luciano didn't turn to meet him, so he sighed and said nothing about it.

"Sleep, then." Another kiss, this time to the underside of Luciano's jaw. The beat of his pulse, so vulnerable, so open, thrummed against his lips, and Lutz closed his eyes at the silent, aweing trust of it. Warmth and life and comfort and belonging. "God knows you need it."

Silence. Lutz smirked, nestled his nose into Luciano's hair, and slept, the heat of their twin bodies enough to satisfy wishes and requirements both real and imaginary.


End file.
